11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Susie

The blinking cursor is back, and my mind is a void of emptiness. My stomach is in a knot and swirling at what this means. In all the years that I’ve been writing, I’ve never missed a deadline.

Norma, my editor, called earlier to see how things were moving along. When I told her they weren’t, I could hear the disappointment in her voice. The pressure that’s been building inside me feels like a balloon at capacity ready to burst. All it needs is one more breath.

I started rambling uncontrollably, and Norma immediately cut me off.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” she said in a soothing voice, obviously trying to talk me off of the proverbial ledge I was on. “Your fans will initially be disappointed at the delay, of course, but we’ll just switch up our marketing plan and tell them the novel took an unexpected turn that required you to go back and rework some of it. You never disappoint. You keep at it until it’s perfect. They’ll love it!”

“If I can actually come up with a story,” I mumble. The background is filled with the faint noise of people placing orders, and the sound of the espresso machine as it hums. I take a sip of my lukewarm latte, letting the familiar sounds soothe me.

“Susie, I have faith that you’ll pull it together and get an even better story than you originally planned. How long do you think you will need?” Norma asks, completely choosing to overlook the fact that I am at an impasse.

When she’s met with silence, she tries a different tactic. “I’ll check in again early next week, okay? But for now, we’ll push the deadline back by a few months.”

“Okay. Thanks, Norma.” I lean my head in my hand and let out a sigh. A few months will give me a little time to breathe so I can take a small creative break.

But I’m not ready to give up yet today. I close my eyes, hover my hands over the keyboard, and will myself to come up with something; anything.

A frustrated breath escapes me. Nothing. I have absolutely nothing.

The tightness in my chest is all-consuming, and I take a slow, deep breath, hold it for a second, and slowly exhale.

I know the exact moment the void appeared: yesterday, after my conversation with Adam and then Chase.

My feelings for both Adam and Chase are wrapped up in a ball of weird emotions. It’s affecting my writing—no, not just my writing, but my life, and I have no idea what to do about any of it.

The fact that I was mashing them together to create a perfect dream man for this story doesn’t help.

How do I separate my real feelings from fiction?

My phone buzzes, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest at the possibility of it being Chase. When I see Brie's name, it drops to my stomach like a bowling ball, and disappointment washes over me, leaving me drained.

Brie has been texting all day long about Pleasant Hollow’s gossip column’s most recent post starring the one and only Brianne Woodbury and Joshua Owens.

A wry grin raises the corner of my lips at both her and my big brother’s reaction to Tea Time’s exclusive video highlighting one very questionable interaction at the stadium yesterday. To be honest, I’m more surprised that it took Tea Time this long to talk about the attraction they very obviously have toward each other.

Of course, I’ve watched the video multiple times. It’s brilliant. Whoever filmed it caught them at the perfect moment, and the chemistry jumps off the screen.

My curiosity is piqued about who could’ve recorded the video, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s one of Josh’s teammates. This is total speculation on my part with absolutely zero proof, except for the fact that Josh has repeatedly mentioned how his teammates are always bringing up Brie.

I pull out my phone and click the Tea Time link to watch the video for the thousandth time. But instead of watching Josh and Brie, my eyes linger on Adam.

I don’t miss the light in his eyes or the smile on his face while he’s talking to me. Nor do I miss the way my heart does a little somersault, but at the same time, it free falls to the bottom of my stomach.

This attraction to both Adam and Chase is why I have writer’s block.

I put my phone down and try to rub out the tension in my neck. My emotions are all over the place, and I can’t distinguish between reality and fantasy.

The look on Adam’s face as he talks to me in that video…real. My brother, standing in the way of what could possibly be between us…real.

My conversations with Chase…well the jury’s still out on him. Especially after his non–existent response to my question about us meeting up the next time he’s at a game.

I cover my face with my hands and finally decide that it’s actually time to call it quits for today; my burst of perseverance is gone.

Grabbing my earbuds, I pull up one of my all-time favorite playlists and get ready to do some journaling. I need to get these emotions out of my head and gain some clarity.

And if not clarity, maybe just a quiet mind.

I hit play, and the first song is "How You Remind Me" by Nickelback. I know, I know—you either love or hate them. I get it. I love them—like obsessively love them.

Don’t tell anyone, but Chad Kroeger has been the inspiration for a few of my past heroes. His voice is just so swoony. I’ve dragged Brie to concerts all over the country more times than I can count.

I feel the tension ease as I freely type without holding anything back. I type how I feel about Adam, Chase, my writer’s block, and my annoyance at Josh and Brie.

The words flow from my fingertips. Nothing matters right now. This is about me releasing whatever is in my way of being able to write.

And it feels good.

Completely lost in the music and the flow of words, I nearly fly out of my skin when the seat in front of me slides out from under the table.

I whip my head up to find Adam Daniels standing before me with a boyish grin on his face that has my insides melting. My hand lifts to my chest, hoping to keep my heart from breaking out of my ribcage.

His mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the pounding pushing its way around my body and the music blasting in my ears.

I pull out the earbuds, and the light laughter falling from him sends a chill through my body.

“I’m so sorry, " he says, trying to control his laughter. Not that I can blame him; I can only imagine what I looked like when he began to slide the chair out. “I called your name and said ‘hi’ right before I grabbed the chair. I didn’t mean to scare you, honest.”

Words are nowhere to be found as I fall into his warm brown eyes, and heat burns my cheeks.

Without touching the seat, he continues standing in front of me, seemingly hesitant to sit down. What is it about this man that leaves me speechless? I shake my head, and a small chuckle escapes me.

I lower the lid of my laptop and hit pause on my playlist, pointing at the chair. “Sit down; I was just finishing up.”

“Are you sure?” A question fills his eyes even as a grin stretches his face, making his dimple pop. “I should’ve just let you be. I noticed you were typing intently but completely missed the earbuds.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” For the first time since talking to Norma, the knots in my stomach untangle, and I breathe easy. “I think you’re just the distraction I need.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted,” he teases as he pulls the chair out further and sits.

“Definitely flattered.” I chuckle, then point to his cup. “Grabbing your usual, Peppermint Patty?”

“You know it.” His grin widens, and he lifts the cup to his lips. My heart does this annoying little flip at the sparkle in his eyes. There is something very sexy about a man who is confident enough to drink herbal tea and not care who knows it. “But I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Oh?” My pulse picks up and starts to race. I reach out for my cup, holding it between my hands in an attempt to hide my nerves. “I’m at your service. Ask away.”

I watch him stare at and fiddle with the tea bag label before lifting his gaze to mine. The twinkle I see has my heart doing funny things. “Soooo, are Josh and Brie a thing? Or just fodder for the gossip mill?”

My eyes widen, and I laugh.

“Oh, they’re totally a thing…they just don’t know it yet.” He narrows his eyes and tilts his head at my answer, confusion written all over his face. “They’ve been doing this whole back-and-forth flirting/fighting since we were kids. I’m honestly surprised it's taken this long for them to be the subject of Tea Time . Everyone in Pleasant Hollow thought they’d be married with kids by now. Me included. But they are seemingly one hundred percent clueless when it comes to their feelings for each other.”

“Hmmm, interesting.” He leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Darius thinks one of the guys from the Mavs sent in the recording.”

“I knew it!” I shout, and everyone in Thanks-A-Latte turns in my direction. A sheepish smile crosses my lips, and heat crawls up my face. I turn back to Adam and place my elbows on the table, leaning toward him. “I was wondering if one of Josh’s teammates was responsible for this. Did you talk to Darius about possible suspects?”

“Possible suspects?” Adam quirks a brow, and his eyes fill with humor. His chest rumbles, and he shakes his head at me. I tilt my head, purse my lips, and give him my best ‘I’m serious stare’ only to have him clear his throat and cough. He shrugs before giving me a crooked grin. “Unfortunately, no. We didn’t have time to talk about his list of…um…potential suspects.”

The disappointment that courses through me is eclipsed by the mischievous flicker dancing in his eyes. The air crackles, and everything around us fades. A tingle runs down my spine just as a loud noise from the counter has me jumping out of my skin for the second time in less than an hour. I laugh and stare down at the cup I’m still holding.

When my gaze returns to Adam, he’s still watching me with a warmth that has goosebumps rising all over my body.

“Darn,” I mumble, taking a sip from my now cold latte while I try to regain my composure. It’s becoming painstakingly obvious that I cannot hold it together whenever I’m in this man’s presence.

“I’ll let you know as soon as he does though.” His voice pulls me back to his gaze and I can’t help but smile.

He presses his lips together, attempting to hold back his laughter, making the dimple in his left cheek pop even more. My heart does the smallest stutter.

I clear my throat and change the topic to, hopefully, safer grounds. “So, how are you settling in?”